


Sweet Surrender

by emeyers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire & Werewolf, Bondage & Torture, Human Pets, Human! Stiles, Implied abuse, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Moderate to Explicit Language, Romance, Slash, Vampires, Violence, Werewolf Sex, Werewolf! Derek, Werewolves, implied rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeyers/pseuds/emeyers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To you, I'm just another human pet; a slave purchased for the sole purpose of offering sexual pleasure and entertainment. You could have me killed for some pathetic reason like I don't satisfy your tastes anymore and no one would question your judgment.</p>
<p>An alternate universe where Stiles, a human slave, is in love with his werewolf/vampire hybrid master, Derek Hale, the son of Mayor Peter Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is an alternate universe. In this AU, Peter is Derek's father instead of his uncle and Derek is a werewolf and vampire hybrid. Stiles is human...haven't decided if he'll get the bite or not towards the end of the story.

Part One

Jolting forward, my eyes snap open and stare into the surrounding darkness. Slowly they sweep over my room, searching for what had awakened me.

Silence answers.

Seconds pass as I strain to listen. Outside, disturbed by the wind, leaves rustle while tree branches sway and scratch against the window sill, their shadows stretching across my bed and quivering along the wall. With a low growl, the air conditioner comes to life as an owl hoots in the distance.

I shoot a glance at my clock. 3:32 AM glares back. Groaning, I flop back against my pillows and yank the covers over my head. However, before sleep can lull me away from consciousness, insistent pounding jars me awake again.

Cursing, I toss my covers aside and stumble down the hallway while struggling to pull on my robe and knotting it around my waist. Who the hell is on my doorstep and why can’t it wait till morning?

Flipping on the porch light, I peer out a nearby window. Instantly my mouth drops and my eyes widen. Shaking my head, I scurry backwards and blink once, twice, three times, telling myself over and over who I saw was nothing more than the product of sleep-induced wishful thinking. There’s no way…

Harsh pounding cuts off my thoughts.

I swallow hard and clutch my robe, staring at the door, my feet refusing to move. If I don’t answer, maybe he’ll realize he has the wrong house and leave. Another loud crack against the wood fills the air.

Guess that answers that question.

Left with no other option, I force my legs to respond. With each step, the door looms closer—he looms closer. Unbidden my breathing and heart quicken, anxiety pulsing through my veins. Two more steps and then I’m in front of the door. Licking my lips, I clench my fists and shove them into my pockets, instinct and emotion warring inside me. Do I really want to revisit my past and resurrect memories best left buried? Absently I rub my inner wrists, feeling rather than seeing the scars and reliving the crippling experience of being restrained while another body hovers above mine and forces me to feel pain and terror where there should only be love and pleasure.

From the back of my mind, a voice scolds me for my hesitation and lingering sense of loyalty. It’s been six weeks and I shouldn’t feel obligated or owe him anything. The connection, binding us together, was severed when I was de-collared.

Yet, I’m still drawn to him.

Biting my bottom lip, I cast a glance over my shoulder towards my bedroom. It would be easy to pretend I didn’t see him. As long as I don’t invite him inside, then I’m safe.

The persistent banging continues followed by a familiar voice yelling,

“I know you’re in there, Stiles.”

Sighing, I slump against the wall and grip my hair. He won’t give up. I know he won’t. Besides, if I don’t answer now, my neighbors are sure to complain, which won’t discourage him; he’ll just wait for another opportunity, possibly when I venture outside for my afternoon walks and with the countless miles of forest surrounding us, I’d be at his mercy.

Resolve weakened and hands shaking, I reach up and disconnect the lock, opening the door a crack and peering outside. Dark outlines of trees sway in the distance and splotches of clouds speckle the night sky. When I don’t see him, I open the door the rest of the way and call out his name, knowing he hasn’t left.

Smirking, he emerges from the shadows and approaches. “What no hello kiss or I-missed-you hug?” I don’t respond as he climbs the steps and stops in front of me. I swallow as an overwhelming onslaught of images floods my mind and I catch myself reaching out to him. Frustrated at my lack of control, I cross my arms, determined to not give into these impulses. “Are you even going to invite me inside or are you going to be a rude host and leave me standing outside?”

“What are you doing here, Derek?” I ask instead.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

My eyes narrow. “Don’t play games with me. I’m not one of your pets anymore.”

“Who said anything about games? You know why I’m here.”

After all this time, did he really believe I’d fall for some line? “What were you expecting, Derek? That you’d find me and we’d get some fairy tale ending with me falling into your arms, telling you that I love you, and inviting you to come inside? We live in reality and—“

In a blur of motion, my back slams against the wall and Derek’s body presses against mine, my arms pinned above my head. “Thanks for the invitation, Stiles.” My throat tightens as dread coils in my stomach. Though I technically didn’t invite him in, on some level I did and now I can’t hide from him. Once an invitation is given, it can’t be revoked. “Struggle all you want but I’m not letting you go.” Averting my gaze, I stare my sandy, brown carpet, lips pressed together. What’s he trying to prove here? I’m no longer his property—his father insured that six weeks ago. “What’s the matter, Stiles? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You can’t do this, Derek,” I say shaking my head. “You can’t just waltz back into my life and expect me to fall over you.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Why not?” I gape at him as bitter laughter bubbles from my throat. “That’s so typical of your kind. It’s not enough that werewolves and vampires revolted, almost decimating the human population and forcing us into a life of slavery, but you have to parade around and act like you’re entitled to everything and everyone just because you’re the dominate race. To you, I’m just another human pet; a slave purchased for the sole purpose of offering sexual pleasure and entertainment. You could have me killed for some pathetic reason like I don’t satisfy your tastes anymore and no one would question your judgment. Your kind doesn’t care about humans and they never have.” Something flickers across his expression. I glance away. There’s no way Derek Hale could feel remorse for me. Instead, in true werewolf-vampire fashion, he took and took until he left me broken. “You destroyed my life and yet I…I can’t hate you. I should…I have every reason to but instead I…I feel-felt something for you. Why else would I have pulled you from your car seconds before it exploded and dragged you several miles, through the mud in the pouring rain, to the nearest hospital so you could receive the medical attention you needed? I did all that because I care…cared and thought that I was something more…I guess the joke’s on me, huh?”

For a moment neither of us says anything. Outside a caressing breeze blows through the treetops while nearby crickets chirp. Behind Derek, my open front door taunts me with the promise of freedom. I clench my fists. If I could free myself, would I even make it before Derek tackled me? With his vampiric reflexes and speed, I doubt it. Abruptly his grip tightens. I wince and hiss at the sudden, sharp pain; that’s gonna leave a bruise.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.” His voice drops to a low growl.

Ignoring the swell of warmth in my chest, I fix him with a pointed stare, my tone sarcastic. “Then tell me, Derek. If I mean so much why didn’t you stop your father from disowning me or prevent that pack of recluse weres from assaulting me? Why didn’t you come after me?”

“Because I’m…” he ducks his head and mutters, “I’m afraid of you.”

Astonished, I gape at him; of all the possible responses, I never anticipated this one; as a child, my mom raised me on the belief that those with supernatural abilities were stoic creatures, incapable of feeling any sort of human emotion and prefer to hassle the weak. Yet, Derek Hale just proved that theory incorrect.

Did I step into a parallel universe? 

As another long silence settles, my thoughts shift to my mom. Though she mentioned some, she never enjoyed discussing our history and most of my knowledge came from eavesdropping on her conversations with friends. According to them, after being defeated, the surviving humans, left with limited options, submitted to the rule of werewolves and vampires. To prevent future uprisings, few humans were allowed to marry and even fewer couples were given permission to have a child. Anyone caught violating these laws was tried, found guilty, and then taken away. Towards the end of the year, we humans were ordered to attend The Blotting, a ceremony where those who’d broken a law, no matter how small, were ushered into an area where newborn werewolves and vampires feasted upon them. Afterwards, the mayor reminded us that as long as we upheld the rules, we didn’t need to fear.

Unfortunately that was hard to do, especially since very few laws protected human rights; if a vamp or were raped a human, it was the human’s word against the were or vamp’s and the cases, if they progressed to court, rarely resulted in any sort of justice.

Before I was born, Mom nearly died of starvation and Dad risked his own life to save her. Although he found food and snuck it back to her without exposing himself, when he tried a second time the following night, he stumbled across a vampire officer who drained him on the spot. Devastated, Mom retreated into her mind, deaf to the world around her; thankfully a childhood friend revived her will to live. Two weeks later, Mom attracted the attention of the local werewolf sheriff and though she rejected his advances, he still pursued her, eventually taking what he wanted. Nine months later, I was born. At first she feared I was the product of that unwanted, supernatural coupling; however, her human doctor reassured her that I was human.

Until my tenth birthday, Mom provided for us by becoming a pleasure slave, one of the few job opportunities open to humans, thus giving us a roof over our heads and food to eat. Unfortunately, one night she refused to sleep with a reoccurring customer and as punishment he dragged her out into the public square and stabbed her six times. As I watched her blood stain the streets, my hatred towards our supernatural rulers multiplied. If given the chance, I’d slaughter them all.

Since that day, I became an expert at stealing food and avoiding detection. I knew where to escape to prevent their heightened senses from tracking me and would grin in satisfaction as I imagined their growing frustration whenever their frequent searches turned up nothing. Unfortunately, my pride caused me to grow careless and after my capture, instead of instant death, the sheriff decreed that I become a pleasure slave.

He couldn’t have issued a worse punishment.

During my first auction, I caught the interest of every werewolf and vampire present, especially when the auctioneer described me as fresh and untouched—virgin blood. Once the bidding began, the room echoed with countless voices shouting out expensive amounts and trying to drown out their competition. Glancing around, I grimaced at the thought of any of those hands touching me whether in a sexual manner or otherwise. When the offers dwindled, the auctioneer announced the highest bid as $100,000 before glancing around and asking for more volunteers. No one said anything. Nodding, the auctioneer slammed his gavel on his podium with a loud “Sold!” While a helper dragged the next slave onto the stage, another assistant shoved me into the arms of the man who’d bought my services for the night: Derek Hale.

Something about me must’ve aroused his interest because he became a reoccurring customer, requesting my services each night and growling whenever someone else summoned me. Two weeks later, he returned with his father, Mayor Hale, and collared me. No longer a pleasure slave, I’d now graduated to the status of pet and the collar served as a warning to prevent others from claiming me.

Life with Derek wasn’t that bad and unlike previous masters, he didn’t expect me to spread my legs for him, despite the fact that I shared his bed each night. Though I still hated the supernatural, there was something different about Derek and as time progressed, a tentative friendship formed between us. He didn’t exhibit the same cruelty other werewolves and vampires possessed and before long, my guard weakened even more and my unbidden feelings for him developed.

That was the dumbest mistake I ever made.

Shaking aside my thoughts, I continue to gape at Derek. “You’re…” I blink, unable to wrap my mind around this revelation, “you’re afraid of me? Derek Hale, the son of Mayor Hale and a big, bad werewolf-vampire hybrid, who can have anything and anyone he wants, is afraid of a mere human?”

“Damn it, you’re not just a human to me, Stiles!” Frustrated, he releases my wrists and stalks over to my window. My eyes fixed on him, I resist the urge to massage my bruised skin. “True, when I first claimed you, you were just another pet for me to amuse myself with, but over time you became more. I don’t know how or when but somehow you wormed your way into my heart. When I heard what my father did, I almost ripped his vocal cords out and would’ve too if Mom hadn’t restrained me. Losing you caused me to realize that you—you mean everything to me. I’ve been running from this for a long time, but I can’t anymore.” Pausing, he locks his gaze with mine and the intensity in his expression prevents me from looking away. “I’m tired. I’m tired of hiding.”

“So…why didn’t you just say something?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“I…” I trail off unsure of whether I would’ve or not.

Seconds pass as I take in the slump of his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes. Where’s the suave, smug, and confident Derek who knows what he wants and won’t take no for an answer? I peer closer and frown. Do I even know the real Derek Hale?

Inching closer, I lean down and, without knowing why, brush my lips over his. He reels back in surprise. I duck my head but before I’d taken two steps, he seizes my wrist and tugs me back into his arms, cupping the back of my neck, his gaze searching mine. I’m not sure what he’s looking for but whatever he finds must satisfy him as his mouth covers mine again. Instinctively my palms rear up and press against his chest. Pausing, he glances down and waits for my reaction, but I hesitate. This whole time I’ve wanted to get rid of him and now when I can, I can’t. Instead I realize that I still want him, still crave the feel of his skin along mine.

At my prolonged silence, he backs me into the wall and reclaims my mouth, his fingers sliding down and teasing my sides. Moans erupt from my throat. I’d forgotten how quick his touch could reduce me to a shivering, begging mess of “yes, yes, please!” Looping my arms around his neck, I thread my fingers through his hair and tug on it, one of my legs wrapping around his waist and bringing our lower halves together. With a growl, he hooks his hands under my thighs and lifts me up. Unbidden, my other leg curls around his waist, our hips grinding together. With a gasp he breaks our kiss and nips my neck.

“Fuck, Stiles...you smell, fuck. You smell so good…all mine.”

I tilt my neck to the side, a choked version of his name spilling from my lips. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Tell me,” he says, his breathing harsh, “tell me what you want.” Repeatedly he thrusts his hips harder, faster which causes me to moan louder.

“More…please give me more.”

Cradling me against his chest, he moves us down the hallway, bursting into my room and pinning me down on my bed. Clothes fall away as he parts my knees and slips between them. I throw my head back and groan as his saliva-slicked finger probes my entrance and works me open. I groan at the intrusion as it’s been a while, but my body soon responds and his one finger preparation graduates to three. When neither of us can wait any longer, he braces his arms on either side of my head and pushes inside, developing a slow and easy rhythm. I clutch his shoulders, digging my nails into the skin and biting my lip.

“No,” Derek says, his eyes shifting to a feral yellow, “don’t hold back.” His pace quickens. “Lemme hear you, Stiles.”

Repeatedly he pounds into me, hitting my sweet spot over and over. Gripping his shoulders, I part my lips, panting, squeezing my eyes shut, and moaning from the friction of our sweat-slicked bodies massaging each other. As our movements become sloppier and more disjointed, my eyes snap open.

“D-Derek…Derek…”

He groans and buries his face in my neck. “I know, Stiles; me too.”

Arching up, I cry out as he shoves inside with one final thrust before my release rips through me and I feel him shuddering in response. My ears ring from the defeating silence as my mind goes blank, unable to focus on anything other than his body molding into mine, hips still pumping and jerking forward.

After a moment, he rolls over and fits me into his side. I wiggle around to find a comfortable position before resting my head on his chest and listening to the slow beat, beat, beating of his heart. Yawning, I close my eyes and snuggle closer, sighing as he tucks the covers around us before running his fingers through my hair and playing with the sweat-damp strands. Seconds later, the slow drag of his touch lulls me to sleep.

Early morning light dances over my eyelids and I groan in protest, shifting away and bumping into a wall of solid warmth. Tensing at the unfamiliar grunt behind me, I shoot a quick glance over my shoulder and freeze. Derek lies behind me, the sheets bunched up around his waist. I swallow and stare. What’s he doing in my bed?

Slowly my mind reawakens images from last night and I relive the moments of finding him on my doorstep to when I kissed him and he carried me into my room. At my last memory, I swallow. Did we…? Tentatively, I glance under the covers and squeeze my eyes shut.

Careful not to disturb him, I scoot backwards until I’m out of bed, retrieve some clean clothes, and retreat into my bathroom, switching on the shower. As the warm spray washes over me and rinses away any and all lingering traces of last night’s coupling, I sag against the wall, hissing at the sudden chill from the tile, and cringe.

What the hell have I done?


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this story, Stiles' first name is Genim but he prefers Stiles.

Part Two

The hot water has long since run out and with it my excuse for showering; yet I remain under the lukewarm spray, my eyes squeezed shut. How could I allow myself to weaken like that? When I left six weeks ago, I never considered the likelihood of me ever seeing Derek again; why would I? Our lives no long coincided with each other’s, especially since he, as Mayor Hale’s son, would be groomed and prepped for taking over when his father either died or retired.

He doesn’t need me.

Why else would he, through a message delivered by his father, say, “You’ve outlived your usefulness and I no longer require your services”? Swallowing hard, I wince at the swell of pain and bite my lip.

Derek’s the one who abandoned me.

Sinking to my knees, I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists, but it’s a useless battle as memories of that day invade my mind.

After ripping off my collar, Mayor Hale’s lips peeled back as he reminded me that according to werewolf and vampire laws, once a pet is decollared, any were, vamp, or hybrid can claim it without fear of consequences. Eyes widening, I clutched my now bare neck before bolting for the exit; about three feet away from it, two weres and a vamp tackled me. If Dr. Deaton hadn’t intervened when they dragged me towards an empty exam room, I never would’ve escaped that hospital alive. Then last night, Derek showed up on my doorstep and claimed he wanted me, regardless of the fact that six weeks earlier he’d decollared me.

What’s with the bi-polar personality switches?

Shutting off the water, I snag a nearby towel and rub the material over my body, hoping to chase away the lingering chill. Unfortunately, I only succeed in aggravating my skin. With a sigh, I toss the towel on the hook hanging behind the bathroom door and tug on my clothes, grunting when my damp skin restricts them. Once dressed, I exit the bathroom and hiss at the cool air as billows of steam filter out into the hallway and evaporate. Suppressing a shudder, I hurry back to my room, a quick glance inside confirming my suspicions that Derek’s not only still here, but fast asleep. I press my lips together and clench my fists at the traitorous flutter of excitement pulsing through my veins. Damn you, hormones. Last night was nothing more than a distraction, a brief moment of weakness that will never happen again.

Venturing down the stairs and into the kitchen, I paw through my fridge, in search of something for breakfast before settling on scrambled eggs with fresh fruit. After cracking and beating several eggs, I reach up into my cupboard for the small Tabasco sauce bottle and sprinkle in a few drops. At the sound of girlish laughter, I glance up and smile, spotting Erica and two of my other neighbors heading towards the lake for a quick morning swim. Noticing me, Erica waves and then motions for me to come too but her smile dims when I shake my head. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve jumped at the opportunity, but I can’t go anywhere, not with that unwelcomed hybrid still sleeping upstairs on my bed.

As I watch my friends disappear, my thoughts switch to how Erica’d been my first friend when I moved here and the two of us bonded over the shared experience of nearly dying once our masters rejected us. With her encouragement and support, I was able to push through my depression and progress forward, rebuilding my life as an actual person instead of a slave. Shaking aside my memories, I refocus my attention on cooking breakfast and slice up some strawberries and bananas.

While the stove heats the skillet, I collect several slices of American cheese from the fridge, peeling off smaller chunks and dropping them into the scrambled eggs. Once everything’s ready, I carry the bowl over to the stove top and pour the contents into the pot, lowering the temperature so as not to overcook the eggs. Grabbing my spatula, I stir the mixture together.

A pair of arms loops around my waist.

“Good morning, beautiful,” a voice whispers in my ear. Heart slamming against my chest, I jump and bite my lip at the feel of his familiar body pressing against mine, the implication unmistakable. “What’s wrong?” Derek asks his tone confused as he loosens his hold and steps backwards.

My eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” Craning my neck, I stare at him—did he seriously just ask me that? “What’s wrong? This entire situation is what’s wrong!” With a growl, I stab my spatula into the scrambled eggs blend before switching off the burner and ducking under his arms.

“What are you…?” He seizes my wrist and tugs me back into his grasp. “Don’t walk away from me, Stiles!”

“Damn it, Derek!” I struggle to break free, but his grip only tightens. “Why’d you have to come back now? I was doing just fine, accepting what happened and moving on.”

He sighs quietly. “I don’t want you to though.”

“Well we can’t always get what we want now can we?”

Hurt flares in his eyes and I try to ignore the tension in my chest. Damn you, Derek and your “kicked puppy dog eyes.” It’s the same look he gave me during his many attempts at befriending me when I first became his pet. No matter what I said or did, I couldn’t resist him; not even the day that marked the beginning of our friendship.

Although three days have passed since Master Hale Collared me, I still kept my distance. Just because he “owned” me, didn’t give him automatic access to my body. As a child, I’d watched my mom share her bed with enough vamps, weres, and hybrids to know that they acted on the principle that, because they were a higher ranking species, they believed they were entitled to anything and everything. Master Hale wouldn’t be any different…yet since he brought me to Hale Manor, I’ve found myself reacting to him. Whenever he entered the room, my back and neck muscles stiffened and my eyes tracked his movements. Part of me rationalized my reaction as an innate urge to protect myself so he wouldn’t catch me unaware, but the other part of me couldn’t help wondering if it was a precursor for something else.

At six o’clock, Master Hale saunters into his room, carrying a dinner tray and my stomach growls at the sweet aroma of a sizzling sirloin steak with a side of mashed potatoes and a corn bread muffin. As he sets the tray on his desk and then faces me, I press closer to the wall, wrapping my arms around my legs and hugging them against my chest, my eyes lowered in the customary manner of a pet waiting to be fed. If he decided I wasn’t being respectful enough, he could revoke my eating privilege. Just because he hasn’t during the last few days doesn’t mean he won’t and can’t. Before I became his property, I didn’t always censor my comments and my punishment often led to a skipped meal.

From across his bedroom, he stares at me, his expression perplexed before glancing at the food. Inwardly I groan. Really a bribe? He was resorting to food bribery?

“Why are you fighting me?” he asks quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Do you honestly think I’m going to buy that?” I say, unable to stifle the words erupting from my mouth. “You’re all silver-tongued devils who will say anything in order to get what you want.”

“Genim—“

My eyes narrow; just because he Collared me, doesn’t give him the right to call me that. “It’s Stiles!”

“Stiles,” he says, holding his hands up before crouching down in front of me, “I’m not going to hurt you; if anything I’d like us to be friends.”

I press my lips together and flash him a pointed look. Because of Mom and her many encounters with a fair number of weres, vamps, and hybrids, I’m well versed in how they operate and “being friends” doesn’t register along their thought process.

“Your kind doesn’t have friends…Master Hale.” Inwardly, I wince at my apparent lack of respect. I am so not getting any food tonight or ever again.

However, Master Hale only shakes his head. “It’s just Derek please, Stiles. I’m not like my father and I’m not like everyone else.”

I bite back a snort of laughter. Was he really resorting to that cliché argument? Although he’s never reprimanded me, he could be waiting to gain my trust before inflicting my punishment. “Well I guess we’ll see about that.”

Nodding, he picks up the tray and sets it down on the ground before settling into a cross-legged position across from me. “Indeed. Now come eat before you wake up the whole town with your growling stomach.”

Brushing aside the memory, I move over to the window and lean against the counter, crossing my arms. Even during times when I overstepped my pet boundaries, he still showed me kindness. “How’d you even know where to find me?” As far as I know, this place is secret, a sanctuary for human pets to live normal lives…well as normal as they can in this reality. Dr. Deaton didn’t really discuss this place’s historical background when he brought me off here.

“Deaton.”

My gaze snaps back to Derek’s. “Deaton?” I swallow at the sharp stab of betrayal. No, he couldn’t have; he wouldn’t have. “As in D-Dr. Deaton?“ As Derek nods, I slump against the counter and grip the edge. “That’s no possible…he promised he wouldn’t tell! He swore I’d be safe.”

If Derek knows, who else does?

“You are safe,” Derek says, lunging forward and reaching out for me. “I’m the only one who knows.”

“Not a comforting thought,” I mutter and evade his gasp. “You weren’t supposed to know at all.”

“Would you rather I’d stayed away?”

Flashing him a “Gee what was your first hint?” look, I throw up my hands. “Yes!”

He fixes me with a stern look. “I’m not giving up—even if I have to wait for you to open up like you did before as my pet. I want you in my life, Stiles.”

“Derek…” I close my eyes and shake my head; why fight this? “We’re both from two different worlds. I can’t pretend I belong…with you.”

“I don’t want you to. Don’t pretend; not with me.”

“Derek,” I close my eyes and rub my forehead; what would it take for him to understand? “When I became your pet and you Collared me, that bound me to you. If you take that away…cutting my heart out would’ve hurt less.”

His eyes narrow as a series of growls erupt from his chest. “What happened to you won’t go unpunished. My father had no right; it wasn’t his place. I never sent that message or gave him the right to release you.”

“Derek…”

“Stiles, it took almost six weeks of begging before Deaton cracked and told me where to find you, but he only did so for a reason. Since you were my pet, for it to be a legitimate release, I’m the one who would’ve needed to do it. Because my father did, it doesn’t count. You’re still my pet and according to werewolf and vampire law, I can take you back with me.”

I slump backwards and swallow, my stomach reeling at his words; well that explains my fierce sense of loyalty to him. “So I’m still your property?”

“No. No,” he shakes his head, “you’re a human and not a possession.” One look at his eyes and I know his tone doesn’t carry the same connotation that other werewolves and vampires might have implied. “I still want you but…I refuse to keep you against your will.”

I frown. “I don’t understand. Are you taking me back or letting me go?”

“If it’s what you really want, I’ll let you go.”

“But I thought you weren’t giving up?”

“I don’t want to and part of me won’t but if you don’t want me too then there’s no point. I refuse to become one of those hybrids who forces his pet to stay. However, if you do decide to stay, it needs to be of your own free will.”

For a moment neither one of us says anything as I consider this foreign ability to decide what I want.

Options!

Unfortunately, now that I have them, I’m not sure what to do.

“As I said before,” Derek continues, “if this is what you want—truly want—then I’ll release you.” I glance up at him; just like that he’s giving up, admitting defeat? That doesn’t sound like the brash, hard-headed Derek Hale I know. “I only have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me stick around for six weeks. Let me be your friend again and if at the end of the six weeks you still want me gone, I’ll leave.”

The corner of my mouth twists up in a half smile. “Gonna seduce me?”

“I’d be lying if I said I’m not gonna try but it’s your choice and whatever you chose, I’ll respect.”

Lapsing into silence, I stare at him. Is this really worth prolonging? I already know I don’t belong in his world. Yet his persistence must mean something…right? Turning, I stare out the window. On the one hand, six weeks with Derek might be what I need in order to prove that we’re two species with no hope for a future. However, on the flip side, he did get me to fall for him once, whether through conscious or unconscious means, and if I grant his request to stay, he admitted he wouldn’t give up unless I asked. Undecided, I close my eyes and wish—not for the first time—that Mom was still around to advise me.

I’ve spent so much time and energy resisting this hybrid’s hand of friendship that I didn’t notice until too late that he not only had become my friend, but he had wormed his way into my heart as well. I can’t pinpoint how or when our master-pet relationship shifted into a friendship—it just did. Falling for him didn’t take much persuasion after that, but I can’t go down that path—not again. I won’t survive reopening my heart only to lose him again. At my continued silence, Derek draws in a deep breath.

“Well I have my answer.” He takes a step backwards, his expression pained. “I wish you all the best, Stiles.”

He offers me a tight smile and heads for my front door. I lick my lips and follow him; part of me wants to stop him, but I can’t find the words. At the door, he glances back and our gazes lock but I can’t understand his look.

Several seconds tick by.

When neither of us says anything, he gives me a slight nod before facing the door, reaching for the handle, and grasping it.

“Derek…please wait.”

He pauses and glances back at me, his hand gripping the knob in mid-twist.

I swallow, unsure of my intentions or why I’d stopped him. Being free of him is what I wanted…right?

“Okay,” I say and swallow again, praying I won’t regret my decision. “You can stay and have your six weeks.”

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it; the new chapter to a my first Sterek pairing story on this site. (Open Your Heart to Us doesn't count as that is Derek/Stiles/Scott.) Please leave me a comment to let me know what you guys thought of this story and whether or not I should continue it.


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